But Not Forgotten – A Gripping Murder Mystery
A serialised novel
“I think I’m your sister. Our father is missing.”
After receiving a call from the sister he didn’t know existed, private investigator Barty Symonds travels to a village in the beautiful New Forest to find the father who abandoned him years ago.
Then someone dies, and all eyes in the tight-knit community turn to the newcomer, the outsider, and Barty finds himself not only in the role of investigator…
But prime suspect.
10
Cara approached the café with determination but still found herself walking straight past it. Turning the corner at the end of the road, she stopped and leaned against the wall.
Pathetic. Useless.
Pressing her hands to the rough brick, Cara shoved herself away from the wall and forced herself to turn the corner. Once again, she strode towards the café. This time, she paused, glancing through the window. She even swerved in the direction of the door.
Then she walked past.
Waste of space.
Less than thirty-six hours ago, Cara had sat across from a twelve-year-old whose mother had died and whose father was missing. One might imagine a child in such circumstances might be inconsolable. A weeping ball of grief and fear.
But no.
Florence was afraid. That much was clear. But what had amazed Cara was the girl’s strength. The way she kept her back straight and held first Cara’s gaze and then those of the officers who came to take her statement as she told them what had happened. She was worried about her father but held it together. If she could be strong, surely someone a decade her senior (Cara) could be as well. The way Florence had carried herself inspired Cara to arrange this meeting. All she had to do was find the guts to go through with it.
She took a breath, pushed off another wall, and turned the corner, crying out as she almost collided with someone coming the other way.
Stumbling back, she flushed as she realised who it was.
“Jane, hi.”
“Morning, Cara. Lovely to see you.”
It was obvious what had happened. Jane, watching the front of the café, had wondered why the person she was here to meet kept walking past without entering. She’d come to investigate.
“Sorry, I was…” Cara looked at the floor, but no one had dropped a believable excuse.
“Getting your steps up.” Jane raised her arm, revealing an Apple Watch. “Dave got me this for my birthday. A lovely gesture, but I didn’t think I’d make the most of it. Three weeks later, I’m jogging around the bedroom at eleven p.m., desperate to close my exercise ring. Dave thinks I’m mad, but he has only himself to blame.” She looked at the watch face. “I’m off the pace today. Why don’t we circle the block before grabbing lunch?”
Cara felt herself well up as Jane – who knew exactly why Cara had failed to enter the café – offered her this excuse on a plate.
“Thank you, that would be great.” She dried her eyes. “Sorry, I get emotional at the thought of hitting my exercise targets.”
“Don’t we all.”
They set off, Jane waiting until the café was hidden around the corner before speaking.
“I was so pleased when you phoned. After the funeral, failing to get in touch… well, that was unforgivable of me.”
“Don’t be silly. You have a family. Besides, I could have called sooner.”
“You lost a parent. Nothing in my life should have prevented me from picking up the phone.”
“It’s fine. Not like this is the first parent I’ve lost.”
This was intended as a joke, but Cara delivered it without humour, and Jane didn’t laugh.
“This is different.”
That was true. Cara had been three when her mother died. She had vague memories of a smiling woman with dark, wavy hair, but there was no grief when she thought about her, only sadness that she had never had the chance to get to know her. It was different with her father. It had been the two of them for as long as she could remember. He was her rock, her world, and the grief of his passing would never disappear, although she hoped over time it would turn from a constant screaming in her mind to an ignorable whisper.
“You know how much your father meant to me,” Jane said. “He’d be so disappointed to learn I’d abandoned you these last few weeks. I’m disappointed in myself.”
“Well, I’m not disappointed in you.”
“Because you’re a wonderful person like he was. Know this, though.” She stopped and faced Cara. “I’m here from now on. Call me if you ever need to get away from the house, from the memories there, and you can stay at mine. The kids can share a room.”
“Not sure that’d make me too popular.”
Jane waved this away. “If they glare at you, just means you know what it’s like to be a parent.”
This made Cara smile. It felt good and made her think of Florence again. How the child had also managed the occasional smile despite what she was going through.
“If you just wanted to catch up, I’d be delighted,” Jane said. “My impression is that’s not the case.”
By now, they were nearing the turn that would bring them back to the café. Cara looked at Jane, even managing another smile.
“Dad always said you were a brilliant detective.”
“Anything I am, it’s only because of him.”
Cara knew this was not entirely true. Her father had excelled at mentoring young cops. He could improve anyone but was particularly good at spotting those with raw talent that others had overlooked. Within days of meeting Jane, Eddie Edmundson knew she possessed all the traits to become an exceptional police detective. Aided by his guiding hand, she had proven him right.
Blushing, Cara said, “I think you’d have been great no matter what.”
Jane smiled at her, and the smile lifted Cara’s heart. She well remembered their first meeting. Cara was only ten at the time, and Jane a fresh-faced detective constable in her mid-twenties, but Cara had been in awe of Jane’s calm confidence and kind heart. She had fallen a little bit in love with Jane that day, and her feelings hadn’t changed much in the decade-plus since.
As they neared the café entrance, Jane glanced at Cara but did not push the younger woman to come out with why she had wanted to meet. Cara glanced at Jane, then looked ahead. Again, she thought of Florence. Cara wanted to be strong like the child, confident and unflappable like Jane. More importantly, she no longer wanted to wallow.
“I’m thinking it’s time to return to work.”
The words came out in a rush, and her cheeks warmed as she spoke, although this should not have been a shameful admission.
“I know I’ll need to talk to my sergeant,” she continued. “I’m not asking you to pull any strings. It’s just… I wanted to talk to someone about it. Someone who knew Dad. Someone he trusted.”
They reached the café door, but Jane paused rather than pushing it open. She had always been good at keeping her face clear of emotion, and Cara had no idea what she was thinking. Only that the pause was significant.
“What is it?” she said.
Jane hesitated, then spoke with caution. “It’s amazing that you want to go back, and you’ll have my support every step of the way.”
“But?”
Jane smiled. “You’ll make a good detective yourself one day. If you choose to step out of the uniform.”
Cara found herself blushing again. Until she realised she still didn’t have her answer.
“But?” She repeated.
Jane met her gaze.
“There’s something you need to know before making your final decision about returning to work.”
Fear caught in Cara’s throat. She gulped it away and said, “What’s that?”
“It has to do with your father,” Jane said. “And the rumours within the force about why he took his life.”
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